If Love Is All We Have
by SFGrl
Summary: How well do you really know your friends? (C/M) {complete}
1. Twenty Minutes That Changed Their World

Yeah, this is totally crazy ridiculous, but it's been in my head for weeks, so I finally decided to write it down.   
And you all get to tell me what crap it is. Aren't you the lucky ones.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
If Love Is All We Have   
  
~Chapter One~   
"Twenty Minutes That Changed Their World"   
  
Central Perk was nearly empty on the sunny Saturday afternoon. The sun shone through the large picture window, illuminating the varnished wooden tables, and casting a warm glow onto the room. Monica sat on the large, overstuffed, orange sofa, absently clicking her teeth with the top of her ballpoint pen. She gazed lazily at the crossword puzzle in her hand. The silence that filled the air was broken when the front door opened, and Monica's boyfriend sauntered in, and plopped down next to her, planting a short, but sweet kiss on her crimson lips.   
"Sure is quiet in here," Chandler observed, as he scanned the room, and nodded at Gunther, the white-haired shop owner, behind the counter.   
"Yeah," Monica replied absently.   
"Are you okay?" Chandler turned his sparkling blue eyes toward his girlfriend, and placed a loving hand on her shoulder.   
"Yeah, just a little sleepy," Monica replied, as she set down the paper and pen and snuggled closer to Chandler.   
Chandler wrapped his arms around Monica, and for a moment, neither person said a word. It was moments like these that Chandler relished. He could live the rest of his life, just holding her in his arms. He smiled contently. How on Earth did he get so lucky? Who would have ever guessed that ten years of friendship would melt into a love that would last a lifetime? Chandler closed his eyes, and thanked the stars above that he was able to find a life like this one. His thoughts were interrupted when the rest of their friends came storming into the coffeehouse, chattering incessantly about the movie that they had just seen.   
"Hey guys," Chandler said, pulling Monica closer to him.   
"Hey...What's up...hello," varied replies from their friends.   
"How was the movie?" Monica asked, yawning.   
"Uh, it was horrible," groaned Rachel, as Phoebe nodded in agreement.   
"Nuh-uh, it was AWESOME!" argued Joey   
"Yeah, there must have been, like 12 explosions in the last fifteen minutes alone!" Ross said excitedly.   
"Sounds great," Monica said sarcastically.   
"Yeah it does!" Chandler said, without a hint of sarcasm.   
Monica yawned again, and layed her head on Chandler's chest. She stretched slowly, and watched, as the others argued over the semantics of the film.   
"Sleepy?" Chandler whispered into her ear, sending chills up her spine, and giving her goosebumps.   
"Mmmhmm," She said, and turned to face Chandler. He kissed her softly.   
"Me too. Let's go take a nap," Chandler smiled slyly.   
"Kay," Monica said.   
"We're going," Chandler announced to the group, as he and Monica stood up.   
"Yeah, I am getting hungry," Joey said, and stood up.   
"Who said anything about food?" Monica said.   
"Oh, you don't have to cook, Mon. We'll just order pizza!"   
The others nodded in agreement, and stood up to leave. Monica shook her head, and Chandler rolled his eyes.   
Sometimes, their friends were just too much.   
  
The group of six stepped out onto the sidewalk, and made their way toward Monica and Chandler's apartment.   
Chandler sighed contently, and took Monica's hand in his. She looked at him, and smiled.   
As they were turning the corner to the apartment, something caught Chandler's eye. It was a black van, the kind that had no windows. The front side windows were tinted, and the chrome rims were almost too shiny.   
But it wasn't the van that caught Chandler's eye. It was the man standing next to the van. Chandler had seen that man before, many many years ago. Chandler had hoped that he would never have to see the man ever again. The large, angry looking man stared at Chandler, as he walked into the building. Chandler tore his eyes away from the man, and made his way up the stairs to his and Monica's apartment. It took everything that he had not to run, screaming from the building. He wanted to get out of New York. Hell, he wanted to get out of the country. But he had been found, and he knew that there was no escape this time.   
  
As soon as Chandler walked into the apartment, he began the search. He knew that his friends would never understand. They had known him for years, and had every reason to believe the lies he had been feeding them.   
"Chandler, what the hell are you doing?"   
"I'm looking for something," Chandler replied hastily, as he ran his hands underneath the sofa and coffee table.   
"What are you looking for?" Monica looked at Chandler quizzically.   
Chandler looked at Monica, then realized that there was no way that this apartment could have been bugged.   
Monica was a meticulous cleaner, and she would have spotted anything unusual immediately.   
Chandler looked at Joey, then back at Monica. His eyes moved back and forth, as he thought carefully.   
As much as he hated the thought, Chandler needed to start thinking like...*him*. He never wanted to be associted with those people ever again, but thinking like them was the only way to escape them.   
Suddenly, Chandler jolted, his back straightening as he realized something.   
"I'll be back," he said, and ran out the door.   
The others, overwhelmed with curiosity, followed Chandler. He had gone into Joey and Rachel's apartment,   
and was now searching in there.   
"What are you doing?" Rachel asked.   
"I've only been living across the hall for like, three weeks. It's gotta be here," Chandler said, and the others looked at him like he was totally insane.   
"Um, what?" Rachel replied.   
Chandler ran his hands over doorframes, under tables, chairs and beds, and pulled apart every light, sconce and telephone in Rachel and Joey's apartment, but found nothing.   
"Dammit," he muttered.   
"Would you like to tell us just what the hell you are looking for?"   
"I can't tell you," Chandler said.   
"Can you tell me?" Monica asked, feeling a little panicked at Chandler's sudden odd behavior.   
Chandler shook his head.   
Monica shot Chandler a glare, and walked out of the apartment, and down the stairs. Chandler followed, knowing that the man was still down on the corner. The others followed Chandler, eager to see him grovel in order to get back into Monica's good graces.   
When they got to the street, Chandler looked around frantically, and noticed that the van was gone. He looked at Monica, and took her hands in his.   
"Monica, I want to tell you, I really do. But the more you know, the worse off you will be. I don't want you to get hurt." Chandler looked into her eyes as he spoke, and saw a fire burning deep within them.   
"Are you kidding me with this? What the hell are you talking about?"   
"I wish I could explain. But know this," Chandler took Monica's face in his hands, "No matter what happens, I will always love you, with all my heart."   
Monica pulled away from Chandler angrily. She was so confused. Twenty minutes ago, everything was fine, and her life made sense. Now Chandler was acting like...like he had done something horribly wrong. Monica felt nautious. Her face went pale, and she stared at Chandler, trying to find some clue, some explaination for it all. Chandler looked at Monica, and knew that everything was about to change. Twenty minutes ago, he had everything he ever wanted. Now, he was about to lose everything. All because he had gotten too comfortable in the life he had created for himself. Tears welled up in his eyes, as he watched Monica back away from him, a look of hurt and anger crossing her face.   
"I am so, so sorry," Chandler croaked.   
His friends looked at him accusingly, wondering just what he had done. Thousands of strange thoughts filled their minds, the most prevalent being that he had cheated on her. Up until twenty minutes ago, they would have never entertained such a thought. But now...they couldn't be so sure.   
  
Before anyone could respond to Chandler's apology, the black van re-appeared, speeding down the street.   
It stopped suddenly in front of the group of friends. The side door slid open, and a large, ominous-looking man stepped out. Another large man followed. Both were dressed head-to-toe in black, and one had a large club.   
The first man grabbed Chandler's arm, and the other whacked him on the back of the head. They threw Chandler into the back of the van, and jumped in after him. The van door slid shut, and the van took off.   
The five friends stood dumbfounded, unable to move or speak.   
In just twenty minutes, their lives had been turned upside-down.   
In just twenty minutes, everything had changed.   
  
yeah, I know, i know. Just review, kay? 


	2. Since You've Been Gone

If Love Is All We Have  
  
~Chapter Two~  
"Since You've Been Gone"  
  
Monica awoke with a start, sweating profusely, and screaming Chandler's name. She opened her eyes, praying that it had all been a horrible dream. She looked over at Chandler's side of the bed-empty. She sighed, and pulled herself out of bed.   
The hours since Chandler's strange disappearance had been surreal to say the least. Immediately after Chandler was abducted, Monica and her friends raced up to her apartment, and called the police. The police had arrived twenty minutes later, and Ross had explained everything. Monica's mind was in a whirl. She thought back to all that had happened that afternoon, trying to put together some clue as to what was going on. She mentally filtered through every detail, trying desperately to explain what had happened. Chandler had started acting strangely as soon as they'd returned from Central Perk. He was searching for something, and he was frantic. He refused to explain himself, and later explained that it was for her own safety. Chandler was afraid of something...or someone.  
Fat, salty tears flowed down Monica's face, as she came to a horrible, but logical conclusion-she was never going to see Chandler again.  
  
****  
  
Ross glanced up toward Monica and Chandler's apartment, and could see his sister through the living room window.  
She was cleaning, something she often did when she was anxious, or nervous, or upset. It had been two days since the abduction, and Ross wondered just how long Monica could wear the brave face. She had been remarkably strong through all of this, to the point where she was the one everyone else seemed to be going to for support.   
Joey was a wreck, and Phoebe was doing what she could for him. But when it got to be too much, she often turned to Monica, more out of habit than anything else. Rachel had become distant, and unusually quiet, and Ross was very concerned about her as well. He pulled himself away from the window, and picked up the morning paper, and a cup of coffee. He sat down on the sofa, and began thumbing through the various sections of the paper. His eyes scanned each page, as he unconsciously searched for some kind of clue. His eyes, fell onto a familiar name, and his heart sank.  
  
****  
  
Joey opened the door, and quietly let Ross into the apartment. Ross was pale, and shaky, and he was sweating. Phoebe and Rachel were sitting on the sofa, talking quietly. Upon seeing Ross, they stopped, and stood up, a look of concern on their faces. Ross looked like he was going to pass out. The group led him to the couch, where he sat for a solid minute, doing and saying nothing. He finally looked up at his concerned friends, and, without a word, handed them the newspaper he had been reading. Phoebe took the paper, and scanned the page. She saw nothing unusual, so she turned the paper over, and looked at the page in front of her. Rachel peered over her shoulder, and Joey stood behind her. Their eyes fell into it simultaniously. Rachel gasped, and Joey collapsed onto Rosita(his chair).   
  
"Ross, is this...it can't be right."  
  
"I don't know how to explain it either, but...we have to tell Monica."  
  
"Maybe we should verify this, or something. I mean, maybe it's not true," Rachel was reaching, desperately, for another explaination.  
  
"Rach," Ross looked at her, and then watched, as she broke down.  
  
Ross closed his eyes, in a futile attempt to rid himself of the pain he was feeling, and the pain he was about to inflict on his little sister. He stood up slowly, and walked across the hall. He walked in, and found Monica on the floor, scrubbing furiously.  
  
"Monica," Ross said softly, as the others hovered in the doorway.  
  
"Hey, Ross", Monica said, not looking up from her task.  
  
"I...I need to talk to you," he said.  
  
Monica looked up at Ross, not at all liking the tone of his voice. She pulled herself up to a kitchen chair, and faced Ross bravely.  
  
Ross took a deep breath, and sighed. This was quite possibly, the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.  
  
"Mon," Ross said, looking down at the table, "Chandler...he's, um..."  
  
"Is he dead?" Monica asked, then turned to look at her other friends, who were all staring at the floor.  
  
"Yes, he is," Ross whispered.  
  
Monica sat back in her chair, unable to move or speak. So that was it, then. He was gone. She closed her eyes, as Ross stood up, and pulled her into a hug.  
  
"I am so sorry, Mon," he said softly.  
  
Monica pulled away from Ross, and ran into her room, slamming the door behind her.  
  
****  
  
Chandler stepped off of the small single-engine plane, and was escorted to the waiting vehicle. (AN; Oh, yeah, like I was actually gonna kill off Chandler! sheesh!!) His eyes were covered, and his arms were tied at the wrists, behind his back. After about 20 minutes in the car, he was pulled out, and led toward a large, stone-and-glass mansion.   
Once inside, the men who had abducted him pulled off his blindfold, and pushed him down a narrow corridor, and into a large room. The room was dark, the only source of light coming through a large curtained window on Chandler's right. A large, oak desk sat at one end of the room, and a large, leather chair sat behind it. In front of the desk sat two smaller leather chairs. The two men pushed Chandler toward the desk.  
  
"Would you stop pushing me!" Chandler yelled, pulling himself away from the men.  
  
"Oh, toughguy, huh?" one of the men laughed.  
  
Chandler shot the man a look, and moved in front of the desk. Suddenly, a door behind the desk opened, and a tall, grey-haired man walked in. He looked at Chandler, and took a seat behind the desk.  
  
"Peter, it's been a long time." the man stated.  
  
"Not nearly long enough," Chandler muttered.  
  
"So, what do you go by now? Chandler Bing? Where the hell did you come up with that?"  
  
"What was I supposed to use, Joe Smith?" Chandler asked.  
  
The man behind the desk laughed. "Come on Peter, lossen up, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, that's kinda hard to do with my hands tied behind my back, Frank."  
  
"You're right," Frank said, and motioned to one of the other men, "Billy, untie the boy."  
  
One of the large men came forward, and pulled the rope off of Chandler's wrists.   
  
"What do you want, Frank?" Chandler asked, rubbing his sore wrists.  
  
"You know what I want Peter. Why are you playing dumb?"  
  
"You know I don't want anything to do with you. Why can't you just leave me alone?"  
  
"You know I can't Peter." Frank said gravely.  
  
****  
  
"Monica?" Rachel tapped lightly on Monica's bedroom door. It had been two days since Ross had told Monica the news of Chandler's death. Monica was obviously upset, and Rachel was very concerned. To her surprise, Monica opened her bedroom door.  
  
"Hey Rach," Monica said quietly. Her hair was matted and her eyes bloodshot. She was pale and shaky, and she looked like...well, she looked like someone who had lost the love of their life.   
  
"Aw, honey," Rachel hugged her best friend tightly. Monica began to tremble, and felt the onslought of more tears.  
  
"What am I going to do without him?" Monica wept into Rachel's shoulder.  
  
"I don't know sweetie. I know he loved you very much. And we all loved him. And we all love you, and we are here for you, no matter what." Rachel stroked Monica's hair as she spoke, and fought back her own tears.  
  
"Nothing is ever going to be the same," Monica whispered.  
  
Rachel nodded silently, as her own tears made their way down her face. Monica was right. Everything was already so different with the group. Rachel never truely realized how much Chandler had meant to all of them, until now.   
  
"I never even got to say goodbye," Monica said softly, as she pulled away from Rachel.  
  
"I know," Rachel said, as her mind began whirling. Monica needed closure. They all needed closure.  
  
Rachel stayed with Monica for three more hours, until Monica finally fell into an uncomfortable slumber on the sofa. Rachel made her way over to Ross', to talk with him about what was on her mind. She was surprised to find that Joey and Phoebe were already at Ross' by the time she got there.  
  
"Hey, I'm glad you are all here," Rachel said.  
  
"What's up Rach?" Ross asked.  
  
"I was thinking...we need to do something about...you know," Rachel couldn't believe how difficult it was to articulate her thoughts.  
  
"About Monica?" Ross asked.  
  
"No, well, yes, kind of. I was just over there, and..."   
  
"Did you talk to her?" Ross asked.  
  
"Ross, let me finish! Yes, we talked for a couple of hours. She's just so heartbroken," Rachel shook her head.  
  
The others nodded.  
  
"She mentioned that she never really got to say goodbye to Chandler," Rachel felt another lump forming in her throat. She swallowed hard, and continued. "I was thinking that we need to have...I don't know, some kind of service."  
  
"I was thinking the same thing, Rach," Ross said quietly.  
  
"I don't want to talk about this right now," Joey said angrily, and stormed out of Ross' apartment.  
  
"He's not taking this well," Phoebe said quietly, and ran after Joey.  
  
Rachel sighed. This was definitely what everyone needed.  
  
****  
  
"Joey, wait!" Phoebe ran after Joey, who was making his way across the street. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm sorry Pheebs, I just...I can't believe he's really gone!" Joey said, throwing his hands up.  
  
"I know, Joey, neither can I," Phoebe took Joey's hand, as they walked toward Central Perk.  
  
"I feel like I should do something, ya know? Like we should try to find him."  
  
"Joey, there's really nothing any of us can do."  
  
"But we don't even know who ran that obituary. *We* were Chandler's family. It shoulda been one of us."  
  
Phoebe nodded. Everything about this was very strange. And everyone was so busy grieving, that they never stopped to think these things that Joey was saying. Maybe he was right. Maybe they needed to find answers.   
  
The problem was, where do they begin?  
  
****  
  
Chandler sat alone in the bedroom that had been provided for him. The room was dark and, with the exception of a bed and a small dresser, it was totally empty. Chandler sat on the bed, staring up at the stars. He wondered what Monica was doing. Was she angry at him? Did she hate him? Was she sad? He sighed heavily, and thought about how great his life was, up until a few days ago. A knock on the door interrupted his reverie.  
  
"Who is it?" Chandler called.  
  
The door opened, and Frank popped his head in.  
  
"Hey Peter," he said cheerily.  
  
"It's Chandler, and what do you want, Frank?"  
  
"Come on, we are going to be spending a lot of time together. You are gonna have to tone down the attitude." Frank said angrily.  
  
"I can have all the attitude I want. You're holding me here against my will."  
  
"Peter," Franks started.  
  
"It's Chandler." he retorted.  
  
"Fine, you want me to call you Chandler, you are gonna have to stop calling me Frank," he said, grinning.  
  
"Fine, can I call you asshole?" Chandler asked honestly.  
  
"Very funny."  
  
Chandler laughed bitterly. "If you think I am calling you Dad, you are out of your mind."  
  
"Why not? I am your father." Frank said.  
  
"You ceased being my father a long time ago. I disowned you, remember?" Chandler stood up.  
  
"You didn't disown me, you ran away. And you were not old enough to make any kind of decision like that."  
  
"I made my decision, and I was happy with it. I was totally happy until a few days ago. Until you came back," Chandler sighed.  
  
"You were only 13, you had no idea what you were giving up," Frank countered.  
  
"I was old enough to know that I wanted nothing to do with this business, or you."  
  
"I run a legitimate business, Peter." Frank said crossly.  
  
"As a front for an illegal one," Chandler shot back.  
  
"You don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about."  
  
"I know what I saw 16 years ago," Chandler said knowingly.  
  
"You only think you know. You don't know what was going on that night."  
  
"Really? Well, why don't you enlighten me Frank. Please, I'd love to here your totally rational, legitimate excuse for shooting a man in the head!"  
  
"You know what, we will continue this when YOU have calmed down," Frank yelled, and turned to leave.  
  
"Yeah, and give you time to make up your story." Chandler muttered as Franks left the room.  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Oh, man, what the heck is going on!!!! Well, leave a review, and take a guess. ;-) 


	3. Don't Tell Me It's Not Worth Fighting Fo...

If Love Is All We Have, Part Three  
"Don't Tell Me It's Not Worth Fighting For"  
  
  
Chandler layed on his bed, hoping against hope that he would wake up and find that this was all one long, horrible dream. He often worried that his father would track him down, but by the time he settled in New York, he had transformed into someone else, and his life before he'd left Prague was all but forgotten. He had grown so comfortable in his life, that he let his guard down. He let them find him, and in the end, their determination was rewarded because he got lazy.  
  
When he was 13 years old, he told himself that the only way to stay one step ahead of them was to keep moving.  
And move he did. When he ran from the fortress that night, the night he saw his father kill another human being, he had no idea where to go, or what to do. He took a bus to London, and stayed in hostels, and, after lying about his age, worked at odd jobs around the city. The constant fear of being found by his father and his associates kept Chandler moving. Eventually, he ended up in Canada, where met an eccentric romance novelist, Nora Tyler Bing.  
Nora was not much of a mother figure, but she was a good friend. She helped to legally change Chandler's name, and the odd duo moved to Los Angeles, where they eventually settled. Chandler stayed with Nora for two years, but feared that Nora's growing fame as a writer would attract attention to him. He moved to Las Vegas, landing a job in a casino through Nora's ex-husband, Charles. Charles helped get Chandler on his feet, but Chandler only lasted in Las Vegas for about a year. He hitchiked his way across the country, and landed in New York.  
  
Once in New York, Chandler worked to get his high school diploma. Smart beyond his years, Chandler had no problem catching up, and, after forging some old transcripts, was able to talk his way into NYU. It was here that he met Ross, and here that his story as Chandler truely began. He told Ross that Charles and Nora were his parents, and that he was estranged from them. His story was so ridiculous that Ross bought it, and before Chandler knew it, ten years had passed, and he found himself surrounded by five people who loved him, and had every reason to believe that he was, in fact, Chandler Bing. The one thing that Chandler had not bargained on was Monica. Chandler had always used fear of committment as an excuse to stay far from love. Falling in love was something he could not afford to do. But with Monica, he couldn't help himself. She was everything he'd ever wanted, but never let himself have. When he finally let his guard down, on that magical London night, he gave himself to her, heart and soul.  
All of his anxiety and worries seemed to melt away when she was with him.  
  
And now the dilemma. If he told Monica the truth, he would risk everything. He knew that if she found out that his life was a lie, she'd hate him. They all would. He wondered if they were searching for him now. He knew one thing was certain-he had to talk to Monica. The only problem was, he didn't know how to do it.  
  
***  
  
Phoebe and Joey sat in the private investigator's office, trying to figure out exactly what they needed to say. They knew that the only real clues that they had was Chandler's strange behaviour just before he was abducted, and, of course, the unmarked van. They feared that this was not enough to go on, and that they would be wasting their time and money. It was then that they were called into the private investigator's office.  
  
"Hello, Ms. Buffay, is it?" the tall, dark-haired man asked.  
  
"Yes, I'm Phoebe, and this is my friend, Joey."  
  
"I'm Mike Martinez. Please, have a seat." (AN: Hey, to those who have read "The Pact"...didja catch the crossover there? teehee.)  
  
"You are looking for a friend of yours, correct?"  
  
"Yes, Chandler Bing."  
  
"I see. Do you have a recent photo?"  
  
Joey nodded and pulled out a photo of him and Chandler at Rachel's last birthday party. It was one of Joey's favourites, because they were both smiling, but mostly because it was one of the last photos they took as roommates.  
Joey peered at the photo, then reluctently handed it to Mike.  
  
"Now," Mike said, looking briefly at the photo, before placing it in an unmarked file, "Tell me everything that you know."  
  
***  
  
Ross, Rachel and Monica sat around Monica's kitchen table, silently flipping through the few photos Monica had of Chandler.  
  
"He always hated having his picture taken," Monica said sadly.  
  
"This one isn't bad," Rachel said softly, pulling out a small photo, and showing it to Ross and Monica.  
  
Monica took the photo, and looked at it, as she recalled the day that the photo was taken.  
  
~One year earlier~  
  
"C'mon, Chandler, just stand there for a second." Monica was facing Chandler, her camera poised to snap a photo.  
The two of them were on the roof of their building, eating lunch.  
  
"Mon, why do you need a picture of me? You see me, like everyday!"  
  
"Well, I need a picture of you in case you have to go away sometime," Monica joked.  
  
Chandler's face grew serious, and he seemed to be thinking about something intently. Finally, he looked up at Monica, and flashed a brief, but bright smile in her direction. Monica clicked the picture, and pulled the camera   
from her face.  
  
"Thank you," she grinned.  
  
"No problem," Chandler muttered, "But just so you know, I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"I certainly hope not," Monica laughed. She couldn't help but notice that Chandler seemed serious. She wondered if she had offended him somehow. She thought that maybe he thought she was eluding to the fact that his father had left him and his mother when he was a child.  
  
"I'm sorry, honey, you know I was kidding about you leaving, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Chandler said softly. He smiled unconvincingly.  
  
"Chandler," Monica looked at him cautiously, "Are you okay?"  
  
Chandler suddenly seemed to snap out of his strange mood, as he wrapped his arms around Monica.  
  
"Babe, you know I am anything but okay," he laughed, and kissed her softly.  
  
Monica smiled, happy that he seemed to be himself again. While she was still concerned that she had somehow offended him, she pushed her concern to the back of her head, and enjoyed the rest of the day.  
  
*  
  
"Mon? Is that picture okay for the service?" Rachel's voice brought Monica back to the present.  
  
"Yeah," Monica nodded, and continued thumbing through photos. She sighed, struggling to fight back more tears.  
  
***  
  
Chandler once again refused to eat dinner, and simply sat on his bed, gazing up at the stars. You couldn't see the stars in New York. But he'd give anything to be up on that rooftop again. With Monica. He recalled the lunches that he and Monica used to share up on the rooftop. They started doing it when they first got together, as a way to hide from the others. But it became a sort of routine, and he found that he enjoyed it as much as anything else they did together. He remembered that one time, Monica had made some crack about him leaving her. it was an innocent comment, but Chandler found himself in a tailspin, as he struggled to decide whether or not he should tell Monica The Truth. He'd actually pondered telling her that very day, at that very moment, but in the end, he just wasn't willing to risk losing her. Now he regretted his decision not to tell her. He sighed heavily, and layed back on the bed. There was a knock on his door, and Chandler rolled his eyes. He was in no mood to be pestered by his father again.  
  
"Yeah?" Chandler finally said, after the second knock.  
  
"Hey," a young man entered, and closed the door quickly.  
  
"Hey. Who are you?" Chandler asked.  
  
"I'm Thomas. You're Peter, right?"  
  
"Chandler, actually."  
  
"Oh, right. Dad said something about that."  
  
"Dad?"  
  
"Yeah, that's the other thing. I'm your brother. Well, half brother, I guess."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. Dad remarried right after you left, I guess."  
  
"Oh. Where's your mom?"  
  
"Good question. She left a few yeas ago. At least that's what my, er, our Dad says."  
  
"You don't believe him?"  
  
"Not really. I just think that if she woulda left, she woulda taken me with her. We were really close."  
  
"I'm sorry."   
  
"What happened to your mom?" Thomas asked.  
  
"She died giving birth to me...apparently. I never knew her."  
  
"Oh. So, you are the 'heir to the throne', so to speak?"  
  
"Unfortunately," Chandler sighed.  
  
"I take it you aren't very excited about being here."  
  
"Well, I was taken from a life where I was totally happy, and brought back to a life that I risked my life to run away from 16 years ago. Yeah, you could say I am being held against my will."  
  
"What was your other life like?"  
  
Chandler sighed. "It was perfect."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
REVIEW PLEASE!!!! 


	4. I Need You Now, Like I Needed You Then

Warning: This story is totally ridiculous, and really weird. I ask that you realize that I have obviously lost my grip on reality, and go with the flow.  
  
  
If Love Is All We Have, Part Four  
"I Need You Now, Like I Needed You Then"  
  
~New York City~  
  
Chandler's service was short, and small. It was held in Central Park, since they had nothing to bury. Monica, Ross, Rachel Joey and Phoebe were joined only by Jack and Judy Geller, and Charles and Nora Tyler Bing.   
Monica was stoic throughout the entire service, gazing sadly at the horizon as the sun set. She could not remember walking back to the apartment. Before she knew it, she found herself standing on the veranda, looking out onto the city.  
She watched silently, as the world around her continued on.  
  
"She's been out there a long time," Phoebe observed, as she gazed out at Monica.  
  
"I think we really need to give her some space," Ross said sadly.  
  
"I can't believe we just had a funeral for Chandler. It just doesn't seem right," Phoebe said quietly.  
  
"Nothing about this seems right, Pheebs," Ross said quietly.  
  
***  
  
It had been two weeks since Chandler's memorial service, yet Monica still felt like she needed closure. Something about this entire thing seemed wrong to her, and she just didn't know how to explain it. She sighed heavily, as she thumbed through the mail. She came upon one of Chandler's credit card bills, and felt her throat close up. She hated making these phone calls, telling these total strangers that Chandler was dead. She sighed again and flipped through the remainder of the mail. The last thing she came across was an envelope with her name across it. There was no return address, and no post mark. Her brow furrowed in confusion. She opened up the letter, and nearly fell to the floor when she saw the letter. It was Chandler's handwriting. She felt tears flow down her cheeks, as she tried to read the letter. But the words had become blurred, and she reluctently put down the letter, so that she could grab a tissue. After wiping away her initial tears, she picked up the letter, and began to read.  
  
  
Dear Monica,  
  
I don't know if this letter will reach you. I am putting all of my trust into a person that I have only known for a few days. I know that you must be confused. Maybe you hate me, though I certainly hope not. I wish I could tell you where I am, and why I was taken, but I am so afraid that this letter will wind up in the wrong hands, and that you will be hurt. I just need you to know, that I am okay, and that I love you. I love you so much, it hurts. I sit here, staring out the window, every day, thinking of nothing but you, and how I've let you down. I promised you the world, and now I can't deliver on my promises. I hate myself for hurting you, and I hate that I let myself fall in love. Don't get me wrong, I do not regret falling in love with you. From the moment you kissed me in London, my world became a brighter, more wonderful place. I am alive because of you. You are my world, and always will be. If I could have one wish, it would be to see you just one more time, so that I could kiss you and tell you that you are my everything. Unfortunately, I can't do that. But I needed to say goodbye. I hate that I can't ever see you again, and I wish I could tell you why. Just know that you will always be a part of me, in my heart and soul. I love you forever.  
  
Chandler  
  
ps. Please give my love to Joey, Ross, Phoebe and Rachel. Together, you are my family, and you always will be.  
~*~  
  
Monica put down the letter, as a combination of shock, elation, sadness and anger coursed through her trembling body. She was so overwhelmed by her emotions, that her head began to throb. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. So she simply sat at the kitchen table in silence.  
  
An hour later, Ross and Rachel walked into Monica's apartment, to find Monica's bedroom door closed, and all of the lights out.  
  
"Monica?" Ross called.  
  
Monica came out of her room, wearing a strange, indecypherable expression on her face. She almost looked happy, yet her mouth was turned downward.  
  
"Mon, are you okay?" Rachel asked slowly.  
  
"Are Phoebe and Joey coming over?" Monica asked.  
  
"Uh, yeah. Mon, what's going on?" Ross approached his little sister, concern written all over his face.  
  
Before Monica could reply, Joey and Phoebe walked in.  
  
"Hey, what's up?" Phoebe asked, as Joey stood behind her, his eyes bloodshot, most likely from a lack of sleep.  
  
"Chandler's alive," Monica said, her voice emotionless.  
  
"Mon, we've been through this. You have to let him go," Ross said, a patronizing tone in his voice.  
  
"He's alive.," Monica repeated, holding up the letter that she hadn't put down since she'd read it the first time.  
  
Ross took the letter, and read it out loud to the rest of the group. The four friends stood in front of Ross, in utter shock.  
  
"I...I can't believe this. Wh-where is he?" Rachel said.  
  
"There's no postmark or address on the envelope. Even my address wasn't on it," Monica pointed to the envelope that sat on the kitchen table. Ross went to pick it up, and Joey stopped him.  
  
"Wait! Ross, that's evidence," Joey said sternly.  
  
"Evidence? What the hell are you talking about?" Ross asked.  
  
"Phoebe and I hired a private investigator to find Chandler."  
  
"What?" Ross and Monica said simoultaniously.  
  
"Yeah, we just thought everything was really weird, ya know? So we hired someone to look into it. This letter should help, dontcha think, Pheebs?" Joey turned to Phoebe.  
  
"Yeah, definitely."  
  
"Why didn't you guys tell us about this?" Ross asked.  
  
"Because we knew that you'd think we were nuts. You wanted to have a funeral and stuff! We just never really believed that Chandler was dead."  
  
"Wow," was all Ross could say.  
  
Monica smiled. "Well, let's go see what this Private Dick has to say, then."  
  
"Ew, Mon, that's disgusting!" Joey said.  
  
"A Private Dick is short for Private Investigator, Joey," Rachel said.  
  
"Oh. Heehee." Joey grinned, as everyone else rolled their eyes.  
  
  
******  
  
~Two Weeks Earlier~  
  
"Wow, that's quite a story," Thomas sat on his half-brother's bed, listening as Chandler told him about his life in New York. "So, you didn't even get to say good bye to Monica?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"That sucks," Thomas said. The two sat in silence for a minute, then Thomas snapped his fingers. "I know what we can do!" he said, his eyes lighting up.  
  
"Do about what?" Chandler asked, confused.  
  
"If you can write a letter to Monica, there may be a way to get it to New York."  
  
"Really?" Chandler smiled for the first time since he was taken.  
  
"Yeah. Dad uses some weird way to get messages to the States. I can slip the letter in, and the courier will just think it's a regular delivery. All you need to do, is put her first and last name on the envelope. I'll take care of the rest."  
  
"Wow. Uh, Thomas, why are you doing this?"  
  
"Hey, we're brothers," Thomas smiled.  
  
"Yeah," Chandler grinned. Inside he wasn't sure whether he could trust Thomas. But Thomas had been willing to let him whine for an hour about losing Monica, so he figured, he'd give it a try.  
  
"There is one other thing we could do, but I don't think you'd agree to it," Thomas said, as he stood up.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Thomas looked around the room, as his voice took a hushed, conspiratorial tone. "Okay, but you can't tell anyone..."  
  
*  
  
Two days later, Chandler had decided to go with the letter option. He had gone through fifteen drafts, before writing down the final version. While his first version had rambled on for six pages, his final version was a short, to the point paragraph.  
  
"I hope this works," Chandler said sofly.  
  
"Me too," Thomas replied, before taking the letter and walking away.  
  
Chandler watched, as his half brother walked down the dimly-lit corridor. Though he hadn't known Thomas long, he felt that he could trust him to do everything he could to get the letter to Monica. He sighed, and walked back into his bedroom, and leaned up against the door. After a minute, he walked to his dresser, and dug throught the stack of sweaters that Frank had put in there for him. Chandler felt around the bottom of the drawer, until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out the tattered photograph, and sat down on the bed, his thumb grazing the top of the photo lightly. It was his favourite picture of Monica, and the only one he was able to conceal, when Frank's thugs took his wallet and had it, along with all of his identification, destroyed. Chandler knew the drill. Get rid of Chandler's identity, then make sure that the papers in New York got the information on his death. He could only pray that Monica and the others never saw that paper.   
  
Chandler looked at the photo longingly, his only semlance of a life that he was being forced to leave behind. The photo was of him and Monica, taken by Joey, soon after everyone had found out about them. Monica was looking directly into the camera, and was smiling. Her blue eyes sparkled, and her face radiated. Chandler wasn't looking at the camera. He had his head turned, and his eyes closed, his forehead leaning on Monica's temple. There was a content grin on his face. Chandler liked the picture, because Monica looked so beautiful in it. He remembered showing it to coworkers, who couldn't believe that he could get a girl like Mon. Hell, half the time, *he* couldn't believe he had gotten so lucky. Chandler set the photo down, and rested his head on his hands. He closed his eyes, and felt his heart break. He stood up and shook his head, and reluctently put the photograph back into his drawer. Then he fell onto the bed, cried himself to sleep, and dreamt of the life he would never be able to have.  
  
****  
  
Thomas returned to Chandler's room to let him know that he was able to sneak the letter in, unnoticed. As he raised his hand to knock on Chandler's door, he could hear the muffled sounds of Chandler crying. Thomas lowered his hand and shook his head. He couldn't believe Frank could be this cruel. Frank didn't really need Chandler, but he would be damned if anyone, particularly his own sons, defy the great Frank Barlow. Frank had made it his mission to find Chandler again. If only Frank could see how much pain he was causing his own son. Thomas thought for a minute, a sly smile creeping up on his face. He ran down the hall, desperate to talk to Francesco. Francesco was Frank's right hand man, and did everything for Frank, but, unbeknownst to Frank, Francesco was looking for a way, any way, to take over Frank's businesses. If Thomas could convince Francesco that he could help himself by helping Chandler, then Thomas could pull off his plan.  
  
Thomas knew that Chandler was against the idea, but he also knew that it was the only way to get Chandler home. 


	5. Desperate Measures

If Love Is All We Have, Chapter Five  
"Desperate Measures"  
  
~New York City~  
  
Monica jogged down the asphalt trail that lined the perimeter of Central Park. It was a cool, crisp New York morning, and Monica could not help smiling just a bit. The idea that they may be able to find Chandler again had put her in unusually high spirits. She jogged around a small bend in the path, and into a set of towering oak trees. The park was eerily quiet, and Monica could hear nothing but her own rhythmic breathing. Suddenly, Monica could hear another set of footsteps behind here, keeping an even pace. Monica thought nothing of it, since the trail was often used by joggers in the early morning hours. Before she knew what was happening, a large hand grabbed her arm, and a cloth covered her nose and mouth.  
She suddenly felt all of her strength drain from her body, just as everything went totally black.  
  
*  
  
"Hey," Ross said, entering Monica's apartment.  
  
"Hey," Joey responded through a mouthful of food.  
  
"Where are the girls?" Ross asked, after Joey swallowed his food.  
  
"I dunno. I think they went shopping," Joey said.  
  
Just then, Rachel and Phoebe entered the apartment, carrying several shopping bags.  
  
"Hey," they greeted Ross and Joey as they walked into the apartment.  
  
"Hey," Ross replied, "Where's Monica?"  
  
"I dunno," Rachel said casually, "She's not here?"  
  
"No, I thought she was with you."  
  
"No, I haven't seen her since last night."  
  
"Hmm," Ross said, as his mind whirled. Something inside him was telling him that he should be concerned. Logically, it didn't make any sense to be worried, since Monica was probably just out running errands. But Ross couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He looked at his friends closely, and wondered if they were thinking the same thing.  
  
*  
  
~Prague, The Czech Republic~  
  
Thomas paced back and forth nervously, waiting for Chandler to get back from his meeting with Frank. He knew he had to tell Chandler what he had done, but he was sure that Chandler would be beyond pissed with him for doing it. He jumped when he heard the door open, and he stopped pacing as Chandler walked into the room.  
  
"Thomas, what are you doing here?" Chandler said.  
  
"I uh...Chandler, are you okay?"  
  
"Oh, you mean this?" Chandler pointed to his swelling eye. "Yeah, it's just Frank's little way of proving to me that he is 'in charge', that's all," Chandler sighed and plopped down on the bed.  
  
"What did he want?"  
  
"He wanted me to sign something. Why can't he get it through his head? I don't want his business! I don't want any part of him! He wants me to sell my soul to the devil, so to speak."  
  
"Oh. Well, can't you just take over the businesses and then, just, um, sell them?"  
  
"Nope. I looked at the contract, and I am bound to the company, IF I sign it," Chandler laughed.  
  
"You didn't sign it?" Thomas asked, surprised by Chandler's tenacity.  
  
"Oh, I signed it, I just didn't use my name," Chandler smiled, "Frank is now passing his company off to Mighty Mouse," Chandler laughed.  
  
"Hence the shiner?" Thomas asked, pointing to Chandler's eye.  
  
"Yup, and it was totally worth it," Chandler grinned, "He has to re-draw the contracts now."  
  
"You know that you are just delaying the inevitable, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Chandler sighed, his smile fading, "But the longer I put it off, the longer I can live under the illusion that I can get out of here and go back to my plain, old, ordinary, wonderful life."  
  
Thomas watched as Chandler wandered toward the window, his mind apparently drifting back to better times. He sighed, and decided to leave his half-brother alone with his thoughts. Thomas closed the door to Chandler's room, and started down the hall. He needed to tell Chandler, but he found that he couldn't work up the nerve. Maybe it was for the best. If Frank found that Chandler had nothing to do with The Plan, he may actually listen to him. Thomas knew that he was taking a huge risk, but he couldn't see any other option. The Plan had already been set in motion--there was no turning back.  
  
****  
  
~Twenty Four Hours Later~  
  
"Are you going to tell me where we are going?" Monica said, aggitated.  
  
"For the last time, no. Now shut up!" the masked man said, and put a blindfold over Monica's eyes.  
  
"Hey!" Monica protested.   
  
The van pulled through the iron gates, and onto the gravel path. It came to a sudden stop at the back enterance of the building.  
  
Monica heard the van door slide open, and felt herself being pulled out of the van, and onto the soft grass. The men picked her up, and dragged her into the building.   
  
The men took her into a small, cold room, and pulled off her blindfold. Monica looked around the room, and tried to figure out where she was. They had flown over the Atlantic yesterday, which meant that they were somewhere in Europe. She peered out the small window, and saw nothing but trees. She sighed heavily, as the men untied her arms and ankles, and locked her in the room alone.  
  
*  
  
Chandler stood in front of the large mirror, taking in the reflection in front of him. At first glance, he seemed to be just a normal guy. Dressed in blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a black v-neck sweater, he looked like an average guy, on an average day. He certainly didn't look like someone who was about to sign on to take over a mutli-billion dollar empire. His face gave the impression that he was calm, and in total control. But inside, he was screaming. He knew that he had to sign that contract today. The contract that would bind him to Frank for the rest of his life. It was the last thing he wanted. Chandler looked at his reflection more closely, and could see that his eyes revealed his true feelings. He sighed, and turned to leave.  
  
"Chandler," Thomas said, entering the room that Chandler was about to leave.  
  
"Thomas, what's up?"  
  
"I gotta show you something," Thomas was grinning like a mad man.  
  
"Can it wait? I have a meeting with Frank," Chandler said grimly.  
  
"Nope, it can't wait," Thomas said, grabbing Chandler's wrist and dragging him down the hall.  
  
Thomas led Chandler to an old, abandoned part of the building. They walked up a small flight of stairs, and down another narrow corridor.  
  
"Thomas, what are we doing here?" Chandler whispered.  
  
"Just come on," Thomas replied, as they approached the end of the hallway. Thomas fumbled with a set of keys, and unlocked a heavy wooden door. He opened the door, and entered the room. Chandler followed close behind, his eyes scanning the room. His jaw dropped when he eyes landed on the figure standing by the small window.  
  
"Monica?"  
  
*  
  
Monica didn't turn around when the door opened. She did not want to talk to anyone, not until someone explained to her why she was brought to this...place. She heard someone enter the room, and still she refused to turn away from the window. It was then that she heard her name. She turned slowly, unable to believe what she had just heard. She saw him, and for a split-second she was sure that it was an illusion.  
  
"Ch-Chandler?"  
  
"Monica, what are you doing here?" Chandler approached Monica, pulling her into a warm embrace.  
  
"I--I don't know," Monica said crying into Chandler's chest.  
  
Chandler looked over at Thomas, who now had a very guilty look on his face.  
  
"Thomas, what is going on?"  
  
"Chandler, remember the back up plan I told you about?"  
  
"Yes, and as I recall, I told you that I didn't want Monica involved in this! We're putting her in danger!"  
  
"Chandler, what's going on? Where are we?" Monica's voice was shaking with emotion.  
  
"We're in Prague," Chandler sighed, pulling Monica toward him again, "I can't believe you're here."  
  
"Why am I here? Chandler, what is this place?"  
  
Chandler pulled away from Monica, and leaned up against the wall. He didn't even know where to begin.  
  
****  
  
"Mr. Geller, please calm down," the uniformed officer said sternly.  
  
"Calm down? My baby sister has been missing for two days, and you want me to calm down!"  
  
"Ross, come on, this isn't helping," Rachel said, as new tears formed in her eyes.  
  
"Mr. Geller, we are doing everything we can to help you. But we have very little to go on."  
  
"I think this has something to do with Chandler," Joey said.  
  
"Who?" the officer asked.  
  
"Chandler Bing, Monica's boyfriend. He disappeared several weeks ago."  
  
"Can you talk to our investigator's about this?"  
  
"Yeah," Joey said. He really hoped that wherever Monica was, she had found Chandler. If they were together, then maybe they would be okay.  
  
****  
  
"So all of that stuff that you told us...about your parents, your childhood...that was all a lie?" Monica sat on the floor of her room, astounded by the story she had just been told.  
  
"Believe me, Monica, I wanted to tell you the truth...and I very nearly did, once. But I had to protect myself. The last thing I wanted was to end up back here."  
  
"So, is your name even Chandler?" Monica looked up at Chandler, as a single tear rolled down her already tear-stained face.  
  
"No. I mean, it was, legally my name, when I met you. Nora helped me change it. But Frank has since taken care of that," Chandler sighed, knowing that no matter what Frank did to his identity superficially, in his heart, he would always be Chandler Bing.  
  
"Wh-what is your name?"  
  
"Mon, I am Chandler. I think of myself as Chandler. My brother calls me Chandler," Chandler motioned over to Thomas.  
  
"Thomas is your brother?"  
  
"Half-brother...I found out a few days ago," Chandler turned and smiled at Thomas, who sighed with relief. He was sure that Chandler was still angry at him for bringing Monica here. But he couldn't help but notice how Chandler's eyes lit up when he saw Monica.  
  
"But--my birth name is Peter. Peter Barlow," Chandler continued.  
  
"Peter," Monica whispered under her breath, as though it was a foreign word to her.  
  
"Monica, I love you so much, and I want to spend my life with you--I really do. But being here is very dangerous for you. I have no idea what my father is capable of. Thomas--" Chandler looked over at his brother, grabbing his attention.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Does Frank know about this?"  
  
"No, not at all."  
  
"Then we can still get her out of here?"  
  
"Yeah. Francesco helped me get her in...he should be able to help me get her out."  
  
"No," Monica protested, "I'm not leaving you, not now."  
  
"Monica, it's not safe--" Chandler said slowly.  
  
"I don't care. I am here now, and I am not leaving without you."  
  
"Monica, please," Chandler pleaded.  
  
"No. Chandler, you know I always win."  
  
"Yes, I know sweetie," Chandler said, kissing her temple, then whispered to himself, "But this isn't a game."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Oooookay. Next part after I get back from New York City, BAYBEE!  
Happy New Year! 


	6. Plans

If Love Is All We Have, Chapter Six  
"Plans"  
  
Chandler, Monica and Thomas headed towards Franks' office. While Thomas and Monica chatted, Chandler tried to figure out a way to get Monica out of there. He wondered how Frank was going to react to Monica's presence. Chandler sighed, and squeezed Monica's hand. He would do anything to protect her.  
  
Anything.  
  
*  
  
"So, they are here right now?" Frank asked cooly.  
  
"Yes. They brought the woman in last night. They want to try and sway you into thinking that Peter is better off with her."  
  
"Oh, really? Well, Peter's plans are about to blow up in his face," Frank smiled.  
  
"They are on their way to see you."  
  
"Excellent. Get out of here before they see you. And find out what is going on with the merchandise. It should have been sent by now."  
  
"Yes Sir."  
  
Franks straightened his tie, just as Chandler entered with Thomas and Monica.  
  
"Well, Chandler, who do we have here?"  
  
"This is Monica, my girlfriend."  
  
"Monica. What a beautiful name. I'm Frank, Chandler's father."  
  
"I know who you are," Monica said shortly.  
  
"Well, let me welcome you to my home. Can I get you anything? Wine? Some food, perhaps?"  
  
"I'm fine, really." Monica was surprised at how gracious this man was. Chandler hadn't told her much, other than the fact that Frank had brought him back here, and that he had run off when he was thirteen. But he had yet to tell her *why* he'd run away.   
  
"Chandler, why don't we move you and Monica into a larger bedroom. There's one in the North Wing that will suit the two of you much better," Frank smiled warmly, and Chandler was taken aback by his strange attitute.  
  
"Wh-what?"  
  
"I mean, unless you like the room you're in--I'll tell you what; Let's let Monica decide which room she likes best."  
  
Chandler stood in front of his father, speechless.  
  
"We can do that later. First, I think Chandler has something he needs to do. Come with me, son," Frank put his arm around Chandler's shoulders and led him to the adjacent room. After they left, Monica turned to Thomas.  
  
"Chandler said that your father was--"  
  
"I don't know who that guy was, but it wasn't our father, that's for sure," Thomas interrupted, laughing.  
  
Monica shook her head. This just kept getting weirder and weirder.  
  
*  
  
"Okay, Chandler, you listen to me," Frank's tone changed once again, from hospitable to low and threatening, "You will sign these, not as Mighty Mouse, not as Chandler Bing, but as Peter Barlow, got it?"  
  
Chandler nodded.  
  
"Screw up my contracts this time, and I'll kill your pretty little friend," Frank grinned evilly.  
  
Chandler shook his head and signed the papers. Frank was obviously suffering from some kind of multiple-personality thing. Chandler looked at the contract as he handed it to Frank.  
  
"So I run the construction business--does that mean I'll have to run all your illegal crap too?"  
  
Frank shook his head, "Peter, nothing I do is illegal--well, it shouldn't be, anyway. I am doing the world a service by getting those weapons out of all those former Soviet Republics--none of those places are very stable."  
  
"Yes, smuggling them to the US and Mexico is certainly helping heal the world," Chandler retorted sarcastically.  
  
"Shut up and get back out there. And, if you are a good boy and do what you are told, then your girlfriend will be treated like a Queen--if you try and screw me, she'll die. Got it?"  
  
Chandler nodded and headed back into the office. He knew that Thomas' plan would only backfire. Frank didn't care that he'd had a life back in New York--he didn't care that Monica was probably confused and afraid, and--should she ever get out--a liability. But none of that mattered now. Chandler had to do whatever he could to keep Monica safe--even if it meant lying to her about what was going on. The less she knew, the better.  
  
***  
  
"Wow," Monica picked up the diamond necklace and looked at it in awe.  
  
"Consider it a welcome gift," Franks said, smiling.  
  
"I-I really shouldn't," Monica said.  
  
"No, no, I insist. You are living in a society where you must look as rich as you are. And you are going to be marrying into a very wealthy family," Frank winked.  
  
"Married? Oh, Chandler and I aren't engaged," Monica smiled.  
  
"I know. But you will be married, eventually."  
  
Monica's smile faded. Had Chandler said something? She doubted it. She knew Chandler, and he was not ready for marriage yet. While she couldn't see herself marrying anyone else, the fact that Frank had been so matter-of-fact about the issue alarmed Monica. She decided to shake it off, and try her best to fit into this weird little world, for now. What choice did she have?  
  
***  
  
Chandler sat in the darkened room, trying his best to stay awake. The room was filled with shady-looking characters, obviously Frank's contacts. Frank was introducing them to his son, promising them that 'Peter' would be as reliable as Frank had been all of these years. Chandler pasted on a plastic smile, shook all of their hands, and backed-up Frank's promises. He left the room three hours later, loosening his blue silk tie, and pulling off his black Armani jacket, before heading back up to the room he shared with Monica. He walked in, hoping to spend some alone time with her. But once again, Monica was gone. Frank had given her the run of the house, insisting that she decorate the house any way she chose. Monica was thrilled with the idea that she'd be able to decorate an entire *house* as opposed to her tiny apartment. Since the "house" had somewhere along the lines of 85 rooms (that he knew of), Chandler figured Monica would be busy decorating for about twenty years. Chandler sighed, and plopped down on the faded green sofa that sat in the far corner of the room. Their bedroom was ridiculously huge. Along with the sofa, there was a bar, a fireplace, a gigantic bathroom, and *four* closets. What the hell are you supposed to do with four closets? Chandler had asked that question aloud a few nights ago, only to be met with a loud laugh and Monica's shaking head. Apparently, it was a stupid question. A large window lined one wall, and a set of French doors opened up to a large veranda, complete with an iron table and matching chairs, and an herb garden--something that just thrilled Monica. Chandler made his way out onto the veranda, and stared blankly at the enourmous Japanese-style garden that grew below him. He couldn't believe that this was his life again. He was knee-deep in illegal weapons trading, and living with a man he had spent the better part of his life despising. But, Monica was with him, and somehow, that just made everything better. Monica seemed to be adjusting to this strange new world well--much better than Chandler thought she would've. He sighed. It was a surreal experience, having the woman he loved with him in the world he had left behind so long ago.  
  
***  
  
Frank sat in his office, trying to come up with a use for the woman that Peter and Thomas had forced into his life. While Frank knew how to charm women very, very well, he despised them--they were too much of an emotional investment. Frank had married Peter's mother only because he'd gotten her pregnant--but got rid of her as soon as he could. The same held true for Thomas' mother. And while this Monica woman was not his emotional investment, he knew that she would only distract Peter from doing his job. He would use Monica until Peter was so totally entrenched in the trade that he had no choice but to stay. Then he would get rid of her--unless...Frank smiled. He could use a grandson to ensure that the business stayed in the family. He'd make sure that Peter got Monica pregnant before the year was out. There was no way Monica would be allowed to live here much longer than that.   
The plan was perfect.  
  
******  
  
AN: Just for the record, I know next to nothing about illegal arms smuggling from former Soviet Republics, I just know it happens. So, for all you smugglers that are reading this right now--uh, sorry. 


	7. Things Go Wrong

If Love Is All We Have, Chapter Seven  
"Things Go Wrong"  
  
Chandler waited outside of the warehouse, his black wool coat flapping in the winter wind. He always hated the fact that he had to dress up to go to work, and now that he worked for Frank, he was forced to dress to the nine all the time. Monica told him he looked "sexy in Armani", but Chandler retorted sarcastically, saying that he'd "look just as hot wearing The Gap." Chandler saw a car pull up, and straightened his shoulders. It was his first meeting with the Georgian* arms dealers without Frank. *(AN: Georgia the country, not Georgia the U.S. state. tee hee. ;-))*  
Granted, he'd been doing this now for four months, but it never got easier. He was, after all, breaking so many laws that, should he ever get caught, he'd be in prison for a good part of the rest of his life.  
  
"Peter, it's good to see you again."  
  
"Mr. Therepanova, how are you?"  
  
"I'll be doing much better once you tell me what I want to hear," Mr. Therepanova smiled.  
  
"Well, it's actually better than you had planned. The merchandise sold for 120% above market value. 5% higher than we predicted."  
  
"You, my friend, are a genius. Your father will be proud."  
  
Chandler smiled, and nodded robotically. The last thing he wanted was to make Frank proud.  
  
***  
  
Monica twirled in front of the mirror, admiring her new evening gown. Monica sighed. She hoped that tonight's dinner party would go well. Frank had let Monica plan the entire event, including the dinner itself. Monica was ecstatic, finally feeling that she was in her element. She didn't want to admit it to Chandler, but she was loving the high-life. Frank was always buying her and Chandler expensive gifts, using the excuse that the two of them needed to keep up appearances. Chandler never really seemed pleased with the gifts, and always took them reluctently. The party planning had helped distract Monica from the fact that she and Chandler were barely speaking to each other anymore. In the four months since her arrival, she and Chandler had slowly begun drifting apart. They rarely saw each other, and when they did, Chandler refused to tell Monica what kind of work Frank had him doing. He always answered with "boring office stuff," but Monica knew it was more complicated than that.   
  
"Hey," Chandler said quietly, as he entered their bedroom.  
  
"Hi," Monica replied, as she turned from the mirror.  
  
"Wow, you look fantastic," Chandler smiled.  
  
"Thanks," Monica smiled shyly.  
  
"What's the occasion?"  
  
"Tonight's the dinner party," Monica said, slightly annoyed that Chandler had forgotten.  
  
"Oh, right."  
  
"How was your day?"  
  
"It was...okay."  
  
"Okay. Um, your tux is layed out on the bed. I need to go check the kitchen," Monica said quickly, and left before Chandler could reply.  
  
Monica leaned up against the closed door, fighting back tears. She hated that they never talked anymore. She hated that she felt guilty for letting Frank be so nice to her. She shook off her tears, and headed down to the main kitchen.  
  
*  
  
Chandler sat down heavily on the bed, and put his head in his hands. He knew that he had to start telling Monica something. He could feel her drifting away from him, and it was killing him inside. But he also knew that he'd be putting Monica in danger by telling her the truth. He sighed, knowing that he'd rather break her heart, than put her in any more danger. He ran his hands through his hair, and grabbed his tux. He was going to be Mr. Charming to these people tonight, even if it killed him.  
  
***  
  
"Monica, you did a fantastic job," Frank whispered, as the two of them stood in the corner of the room, observing the scene that lay before them.  
  
"Thank you, Frank," Monica smiled.   
  
"Well, I am going to go try and charm the Ambassador. Thanks again, Monica," Frank winked and made his way across the room. Monica was impressed by the way Frank seemed to handle his business so gracefully. She often wondered if Chandler had run away from his father because of some teenage angst, not because of anything Frank had done. He just didn't seem to be that bad. But then, he was holding Chandler here against his will. Monica wondered what Frank's reason were for this.  
  
"A penny for your thoughts," Chandler whispered, startling Monica.  
  
"Oh, I was just thinking about...what the others would think of us if they could see us now."  
  
"I miss them too, sweetheart."  
  
"New York seems like a whole other world, doesn't it?"  
  
"Yeah," Chandler looked at Monica, and could see the sadness lining her eyes. It was then that he made the decision. He had to get Monica out of here, no matter what the cost. She may end up hating him for it, but in the long run, it would save her life.  
  
***  
  
"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Thomas asked. He and Chandler were stolling the grounds of the compound the next afternoon.  
  
"Look, Monica doesn't belong here. I don't want her to get hurt because of me."  
  
"But she seems okay right now," Thomas pointed out.  
  
"But what if something happens? What if something goes wrong? Frank has already warned me that if I screw anything up, he'd kill her. I am not willing to take that risk."  
  
"Have you told Monica this?"  
  
"No...not yet. I'm not even sure that I should."  
  
"Don't you think she has a right to know how much danger she's in?"  
  
"I guess. I just...I think that the less she knows, the less she can tell, and in the end, that would be the safest thing for her."  
  
"But she loves you. I doubt she's gonna want to leave without you."  
  
"I'm going to make her want to leave."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Look, things aren't all that great between us right now anyway. I just figure, eventually, she'll want to get away from me. I just need to find a way to make her think I don't love her anymore."  
  
"How are you gonna do that?"  
  
"I don't know," Chandler sighed. "I have to convince the woman I love more than anything, that I don't love her. And I have no idea how to do it." Chandler shook his head. It would be the hardest thing he'd ever have to do. But if she survived, he knew it would all be worth it.  
  
***  
  
Monica smiled as she strolled through one of the back bedrooms. It was the perfect size for a nursery. Her smile faded, when she realized that she and Chandler were nowhere near ready to have children. She shook her head and made her way into the next room. She had to talk to Chandler, she needed to figure out how to fix all of this.  
She walked out into the hallway and realized that she was not entirely sure *which* way to head. The house was way too large! She wandered down a small corridor, and found herself in a place she was sure she'd never seen before. It was then that she heard the voices. She peered her head around the corner of the next doorway, and saw a frightened girl...it was one of the maids. She was talking to someone...Monica listened more closely, and realized...it was Frank. He was speaking quietly...she couldn't make out what he was saying. Monica leaned against the wall, and wondered if she could leave without being noticed. It was then that she heard the smack. Monica peered around the corner again, and saw the girl on the ground, and Frank moving to hit her again. She began to think of all the things Chandler had said...about it being dangerous for her here. Monica tip-toed back down the hallway, and made her way down the corridor toward her bedroom.  
  
She needed to find Chandler.   
  
*  
  
Chandler made his way back toward the house. He decided that the sooner he told Monica he didn't love her, the better. He didn't want to hurt her...but...he didn't know what else to do. He walked into the bedroom, and saw Monica sitting on the bed, a strange look on her face.  
  
"Monica," Chandler said, fighting to keep his voice steady, "We need to talk." 


	8. Forgive Everything, Forget Nothing

ooooh, pretty purple.....;)  
  
If Love Is All We Have, Chapter Eight  
"Forgive Everything, Forget Nothing"  
  
  
"Monica, we need to talk."  
  
"Ch-Chandler. You were right," Chandler approached Monica, and saw that she was trembling.  
  
"What happened?" Chandler's face flushed with sudden anger and panic.  
  
"Your father...he was...hitting one of the maids. Oh, Chandler, I'm sorry I didn't believe you. You said he was dangerous...but he was so sweet to me, and-and I just wanted..." Monica began swallowing her breath, trying to control her panicked sobs.  
  
"Shh, it's okay," Chandler sat next to Monica, and wrapped his arms protectively around her, letting her sob into his chest. He stroked her back until she stopped trembling, and pulled away from him.  
  
"Chandler, why did you leave here before? Did he hurt you?" Monica looked at Chandler, her fear and sadness evident on her face. It made Chandler's heart ache.  
  
"No. He's never really...look, it's a long story, Mon." Chandler suddenly felt very tired. He took Monica's hand in his, and looked into her eyes. "Listen to me. I don't want you to get hurt. And I know that things haven't been good between us lately, and I feel like I owe you an explaination, because I know that it's my fault," Chandler took a deep breath, and gave Monica's hands a reassuring squeeze before continuing. "The truth is...I've been trying to, uh, find a way to get you out of here for a long time. Tonight, before you told me about Frank, my intention was to tell you that I no longer loved you, so that you would leave. But looking at you right now," Chandler chuckled lightly, "I would have never gotten through it. Monica, my job...it's not very safe, and it's not very legal. That's all I can tell you. I have to stay here. If I screw up, or if I try to leave, Frank will come after you. I will not let that happen, that I promise you. Mon, you can't stay here. I am asking you to please, please leave."  
  
Monica looked at Chandler in shock. She didn't realize how bad it was. She didn't want to leave, she wanted more than anything to stay with Chandler, to make sure that nothing bad happened to him. But she could see the desperation in his eyes, and the pleading. She knew that if she stayed, Chandler would be forever bound to Frank's every wish. She could see now that he was a prisoner here, and that her being here only raised the stakes of whatever game Frank had Chandler playing. So she did the only thing she could do. And she did it, because she loved Chandler more than anything. She agreed to leave him.  
  
*  
  
Chandler explained to Monica that she would have to play it cool for a few more weeks, while he worked to ensure her safety. Monica was devastated, but understanding when Chandler told her she could not go back to New York. She would be endangering herself, and their friends by doing so. Chandler told Monica that she would have to begin a completely different life, much like he had to when he left at thirteen.  
  
While Monica continued to decorate the house as though nothing had happened, Chandler worked with Thomas and Francesco to create a safe haven for Monica. Ironically, Monica would be sent to London. Chandler smiled, when he thought about how much that city meant to the two of them. His smile faded when he realized they would never be able to create new memories together. Chandler wondered if Monica would eventually move on. If she would marry, and have children one day, and if she would eventually forget about him.  
  
"Chandler? Are you okay?" Thomas interrupted Chandler's disturbing train of thought.  
  
"Yeah. I'm just...I want to go with her. I want to be with her. I hate this," Chandler sighed.  
  
"Well, maybe we should work on getting you out to," Thomas suggested.  
  
"There's no way. Frank would come after me again. I couldn't put Mon through that."  
  
Thomas nodded silently. Inside, his wheels were turning. He still thought that there could be a way.  
  
*  
  
The night approached much more quickly than Chandler and Monica had wanted it to. Frank was out of town on business, and it was the perfect opportunity to sneak Monica out. She would leave with Francesco at dawn. Chandler would make up a story that he and Monica had fought, and that she admitted to not loving him, and that she left, and he had no idea where she'd gone. Frank may try to look for her, that much Chandler knew. But he also knew that Frank would probably be relieved that Monica was gone. That night, Chandler and Monica took dinner in their room, determined to make their last few hours together count. Neither one of them ate. They sat together, on the sofa, curled up in each others arms, hoping that their goodbye's wouldn't be forever. They talked about their past, about London, and about the others. They talked about their secret relationship, and the chaotic day when everyone found out. They talked about everything but the future. They didn't want to think about a future without one another. They made love until the first light of the day began to show itself. Chandler tried to will the sun to stay out of the sky, but knew it was futile. Monica reluctenly dressed, and packed one small bag. It contained a copy of the photo Chandler had hid away from Frank, and a few toiletries. Her life as Monica Geller was about to end. Her obituary had already run in every paper in New York. Chandler walked her to the door, and kissed her deeply, not wanting to let go, but knowing he had to, when Francesco cleared his throat.   
  
"I love you," he whispered into her hair.  
  
"I love you too. Always."  
  
He watched Monica walk toward the van, the very van that had brought her to him. She turned back only once, the morning light revealing her latest set of tears, and then, just like that, she was gone.  
  
***  
  
~New York City~  
  
It was a sunny Sunday morning, yet the four people who sat inside Central Perk looked as gloomy as a rainy day. It had been Rachel who had discovered the article this time. She was flipping through the New York Times early that morning, and came upon a small blurb with a headline that read, "New York Couple Among Dead In Hawaiian Boating Accident". Rachel scanned the article, her eyes reluctently landing on two very familiar names. The article raised more questions than it did answers. Why had Chandler, and later Monica, been abducted? Why were they in Hawaii? Why hadn't they called to say they were together? Were they really dead, or was it another strange cover story? No one wanted to accept that Monica and Chandler were really dead. But if they weren't, where were they?  
  
It was a question that would hang over their heads for a very long time.  
  
***  
  
~Prague~  
  
The merchandise had been destroyed en route. Chandler had to be the one to tell the client. Frank was still in Moscow, his flight back to Prague delayed due to poor weather. Chandler went to the warehouse alone, not wanting to get anyone else involved. But the idea that he'd have to explain this screw-up to a man who he barely knew, scared Chandler. His stomach was doing flips, and he was sweating.   
  
The call regarding the merchandise had come about six hours after Monica had left. Chandler was devastated, but knew that her safety, especially over the first few weeks, would depend on him doing his job. So he took the call, and was horrified to discover that everything had gone so horribly wrong. He'd called the client, Mr. Krovomski, and had agreed to meet him at the warehouse at midnight.  
  
It was now 12:15.  
  
Chandler paced the grounds nervously, not sure how long he should wait. At about 12:25, a car pulled into the yard, and came to a stop in front of Chandler. The headlights shone like a spotlight, illuminating the side of the warehouse, and forcing Chandler to squint, as he watched not one, but four figures emerge from the still-running vehicle. Chandler swallowed hard as the figured approached, all faceless, an effect created by the blinding lights behind them.  
  
"Peter, what happened?"  
  
"I honestly don't know, sir," Chandler replied nervously.  
  
"Where's Frank?"  
  
"In Moscow. Listen, I'm sure that once he returns, we can get this whole thing cleared up," Chandler said quickly.  
  
"My sources tell me some of the wreckage was recovered by the United States Navy. This is unacceptable, Peter," Mr. Krovomski said gravely.  
  
"I--I know, sir."  
  
"I'm going to ask you to do me a favour, Peter."  
  
"Yes, yes, anything," Chandler said hopefully.  
  
"Give your father a message. Tell him that next time, I won't be so forgiving. Next time, his son will not survive this meeting," The overweight Belarussian walked away, as the other three men approached Chandler menacingly.  
  
He only remembered being punched two or three times, before everything faded to black.  
  
***  
  
~London, England~  
  
Monica sat in the centre of her small Notting Hill flat, absorbing the silence. She had never felt so alone in her entire life. She looked at her new American passport. The photograph was typical of a passport photo--it was horrible. Her fingers ran over the name and address, as she struggled to remember the details of her new life. Name: Kristin Enea. Address: 987 Cherry Creek Boulevard, Denver, Colorado 80228. Age: 28.  
Monica sighed. Chandler had created a totally different identity for her, and, as a result, she would have to wear green contacts whenever she went out. She had cut her hair, and dyed it burgandy. She had just moved to London from Denver--she even had a used plane ticket from Denver International to Gatwick. She was working in an advertising agency in London. She wondered if Chandler had altered his appearance when he'd become Chandler Bing. It didn't matter. She pulled out the photo he'd given her before she'd left. He was all that she wanted. She suddenly realized that she didn't want to live in London, alone and with a different name. She wanted to be with Chandler, even if that meant dying with him before they were supposed to. She placed the photo back into her bag, and grabbed her jacket.  
  
If she was going to disappear into the world, he was coming with her. 


	9. No Matter What

If Love Is All We Have, Chapter Nine  
"No Matter What"  
  
~Prague~  
  
Chandler woke up in his bed two days later, his head pounding, and his body aching. He struggled to recall what had happened to him. He remembered saying goodbye to Monica. And meeting with one of Frank's clients...something had gone wrong. He sat up slowly, groaning loudly as the pounding in his head was amplified with every movement. Suddenly, the door to his bedroom opened.  
  
"Chandler, you're awake," Frank said, entering the room.  
  
"Yeah. What, uh, what happened?"  
  
"Well, I was hoping you could tell me. Thomas says that Monica left you?"  
  
"Yeah. She decided she didn't love me anymore," Chandler lied, hoping that that was what Thomas had told Frank as well.  
  
"So I hear. So, what happened with the shipment?"  
  
"Oh. Uh, I'm not sure," Chandler shook his head.  
  
"Hmm. Well, we'll talk about it later. Get some sleep, we've got a lot to do tomorrow."  
  
As Frank left, Chandler sighed heavily, and fell back down onto the bed. But he found that he couldn't sleep in that bed without Monica. He figured that if he was going to stay here, he'd have to move back to his old room.  
  
He could still smell her on the sheets.  
  
It made him want to cry.  
  
***  
  
Monica arrived in Prague twenty four hours later. She checked into a local hotel, using her new fake name. She bought a map of Prague, and that's when the realization hit: She had no idea where the compound was. They had blindfolded her on the way in, and the morning she left, she was too upset to take notice.She sighed heavily, and decided to just explore. Maybe she would see something she recognized.She left the hotel, and made her way toward the centre of town. She wandered to an outdoor cafe, situated in the town square, near a large, astrological clock. She looked at her map, and found that the clock was a famous landmark. She wondered if the compound was a famous landmark. It was very large, and seemed pretty old. She scanned the map, all the while wondering if she would ever be able to find Chandler again.  
  
***  
  
Chandler fiddled with the pen in his hand, and thought about the plan that Thomas had just shared with him. The plan that would get Chandler out, and off to London.  
  
"I dunno, Thomas, it seems pretty risky. You sure this guy isn't working for Frank?"  
  
"Yeah, he's like, a friend of Francesco's sister or something," Thomas said.  
  
"Hmm. Lemme think about it, okay?"  
  
"Okay. But remember, it's gonna take time to set up."  
  
"Yeah," Chandler said. Frank would kill him for sure if they were found out. But maybe it was worth the risk. He'd do almost anything to see Monica again.  
  
***  
  
Monica had been in Prague for a week, and had no luck finding the compound. She was beginning to give up all hope of finding this place. She looked around, and noticed that she had wandered up a large hill, and she was now overlooking the city. She kept walking, and saw a small, white church sitting in a small clearing. She wandered toward the church, and gazed at the frescos that lined the stone walls. As she wandered around the church, she thought about the strange twist her life had taken. Just a few short months ago, she was a normal woman, living an average life, in the middle of New York City. Now she found herself in the middle of Europe, poking around like Nancy Drew, trying to find the love of her life, hoping that she wouldn't be killed. She was shaken from her thoughts when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw another clearing, at the bottom of the hill, behind the church. She squinted, trying to make out what it was. Her eyes widened, when she figured out what she was looking at:  
  
A Japanese Tea Garden.  
  
*  
  
Monica made her way down the hill, toward the compound. By the time she reached the large wall, it was getting dark out. She made her way around to the front of the compound, and watched as the guards at the gate changed posts. She bit her bottom lip, trying to figure out how she was going to get onto the grounds. She backtracked, studying the walls carefully. She decided that the only way to get in was to climb the wall. Since the wall was made of stone, it shouldn't be too difficult to scale. Monica's small hands and feet were able to grip onto the protruding stoned relatively easily, and Monica made her way up the large wall within minutes. She pulled herself over the wall, and scaled carefully down the other side. She found herself in the Tea Garden. She crossed the garden quickly, and walked toward the main house. She suddenly realized that she had come this far, and had no plan at all for getting to Chandler, much less getting him out. She noticed a light coming from one of the rooms on the other end of the house. She made her way to the window, and saw that she was peering into Frank's office. Inside, she saw Frank, Francesco, Thomas, a few men she recognized as Frank's bodyguards, and Chandler. They were talking, but Monica couldn't hear what they were talking about.  
  
*  
  
"I can't stay, Frank, I have to try to find Monica," Chandler said slowly.  
  
"If you leave, I will track you down, and kill both of you," Frank smirked.  
  
"I'll go straight to the police when I leave here. No, you know what, I'll go straight to the Embassy. Or to InterPol. You want to follow me, that's fine. I'll tell them everything I know."  
  
"You son of a bitch," Frank growled.  
  
"I told you you couldn't trust him, Frank," Francesco seethed.  
  
"He doesn't belong here, Frank," Thomas added.  
  
"Well, then he doesn't have to stay. I have another son," Frank looked at Thomas. "Thomas, son, I'll need you to prove your loyalty. You understand, I can't have you pulling something like this," Frank said, pointing at Chandler. Frank looked at Francesco, and nodded silently. Francesco pulled out a gun, and handed it to Thomas.  
  
Frank turned to Thomas, as he wrapped his shaking fingers around the gun.  
  
"Take care of it, Thomas," Frank growled, before taking a seat behind his desk.  
  
*  
  
Monica watched, as Francesco pulled out a gun, and handed it to Thomas. Seconds later, Thomas was pointing the gun at Chandler.  
  
"No, he wouldn't shoot him," Monica whispered to herself.  
  
Monica watched, her heart pounding, and her head spinning, as Thomas stood on front of Chandler for what felt like hours. He and Chandler stared at each other, Chandler obviously pleading with him silently. Monica silently willed Thomas to put the gun down. He didn't. And the next thing Monica knew, the gun was going off. One, two, three, four, five. Five shots rang out, filling the silence of the night with shock and horror. She felt like she was watching the entire scene in slow motion. She saw Thomas' face as he pulled the trigger. She saw Chandler's body contort, as each bullet hit him in the chest. And she watched as Chandler hit the ground, his eyes closed, and pools of blood grew around him.  
  
The shock and horror caused Monica to fall backwards. She lost her footing, and fell, slamming her head on the stone wall on her way down.  
  
***  
  
if you want to know what happens, you have to tell me what you think so far.  
;-) 


	10. In a Corner

If Love Is All We Have, Chapter Ten  
"In a Corner"  
  
Thomas and Francesco dragged Chandler's lifeless body out of Frank's office, and down to the basement. They dumped his body into a clothes hamper, and rolled it into the back of an unmarked van. They both watched, as the the van left the compound, slowly fading as it headed deeper into the woods behind the compound.  
  
"That went a little too smoothly," Francesco commented.  
  
"Yeah," Thomas said blankly, as the two men headed back toward the main house.  
  
***  
  
She could hear a high-pitched ringing, and then she could hear a powerful thumping. It took her a minute to realize that it was her own heartbeat. She was surrounded by pitch black darkness. Then she heard mumbling. As the mumbling became clearer, she felt herself being pulled out of the darkness. She opened one eye, and then the other. Her head was throbbing. The ringing in her ears would not let up. She saw a man standing over her. She didn't recognize him.  
  
"Wh-where am I?" she croaked.  
  
"You are home, Monica," the man replied.  
  
"What happened? Where's Chandler?" Monica blinked furiously.  
  
"We aren't sure what happened. We found you, unconscious in the garden, fourteen hours ago. How do you feel?"  
  
"I want to see Chandler," Monica insisted, not entirely sure why she had an overwhelming desire to see him.  
  
"In time, my dear, in time," the man said comfortingly.  
  
Monica closed her eyes, and was again surrounded by The Darkness.  
  
*  
  
The next time Monica opened her eyes, the ringing had stopped, and the throbbing had become a bit more bearable. She sat up slowly, and took in her surroundings. She opened her mouth to call out for Chandler, when she suddenly remembered what it was she'd seen before she fell. She wondered if he had survived the shooting. She wondered why Thomas had turned on him. Had it all been part of a bigger plan? Was Thomas really working with Frank? She couldn't believe it. He seemed like such a sweet kid.   
She heard the door to her bedroom open, and turned to see Frank walk in with the stranger from before.  
  
"This is Doctor Chadwick," Frank said, as he made his way toward Monica.  
  
"Hello, Monica," the softspoken man said.  
  
"Frank...where's Chandler?" Monica was almost afraid to ask.  
  
"Chandler is dead," Frank said flatly.  
  
Monica felt tears welling up in her eyes, as she absorbed the information.  
  
"Why?" she whispered.  
  
"Because he screwed up. Because he wanted to leave again. Because he wanted to be with *you*," Frank seethed. "The doctor is going to take a look at you, and then you and I are going to have a little chat." Frank turned to leave, and as he opened the door, he turned toward her again. "Don't worry Monica, you'll be seeing Chandler soon enough."  
  
***  
  
Chandler woke up with a start, wheezing and gasping for air. (AN: Okay, you can breathe now, LOL) He turned to his side, and groaned in pain. The bullets had hit him with much more force than he was expecting. He sat up slowly, shaking his weary head. As he pulled off his outer jacket, and then his flak jacket, he winced in pain. The bullets had left large bruises all over his torso. He pulled off his bloody shirt, and threw it into the makeshift grave that had been dug out next to him. He took off his watch, and threw it into the grave as well. The plan had obviously gone well, since there was no sign of Frank or his men anywhere. Francesco had told him that the only way that they would be able to pull it off would be if he or Thomas shot Chandler in front of Frank. Two days prior, Francesco's friend, a doctor from Sweden, drew a pint of blood from Chandler. Four sealed bags were sewn into Chandler's jacket the night before the shooting was to take place, ensuring that Chandler would appear to be bleeding all over Frank's four thousand dollar Persian rug. Chandler remembered Thomas' face as he pointed the gun at him. He had wondered if Thomas was going to be able to go through with it. Silently pleading with his eyes, Chandler had convinced Thomas to pull the trigger. The bullets had hit Chandler hard enough to knock the wind out of him, and knock him out cold when he hit the hardwood floor. The bullets punctured each of the blood-filled bags as he fell. It was apparently enough to convince Frank that Chandler was dead.  
  
Chandler looked around the darkened woods, and stood up slowly, then picked up the shovel that had been left behind. He dug up a plastic bag that was buried twenty yards from the grave. In the bag he found his new passport, money, a train ticket, and a change of clothes. Throwing all of his soiled clothes and identification into his grave, he quickly filled in the hole, and made his way down the hill, and toward the city.  
  
***  
  
Thomas was sitting next to Monica's bed the next time she woke up.  
  
"Get away from me, you bastard," she croaked, moving swiftly to the other side of the bed.  
  
"Monica, please calm down."  
  
"Calm down? You killed your own brother!"  
  
"Monica, please, just listen. Chandler's alive," Thomas whispered.  
  
"What?"  
  
"He's alive. Everything that you saw--it was part of a plan--a plan to get him out of here."  
  
"Oh my God. Wh-where is he?"  
  
"On his way to London," Thomas said.  
  
Monica closed her eyes, suddenly realizing that she had made a huge mistake coming back. But before she could reply, her door opened, and Frank came in, with the same bodyguards from the other night.  
  
"Monica, I see you are feeling better," Frank said slowly.  
  
"A little," Monica said quietly.  
  
"I need to ask you a few questions, Monica," Franks said slowly.  
  
"What are you going to do with me?"  
  
"Why did you come back here? Chandler told me that you told him that you no longer loved him."  
  
"I did. But--"  
  
"There's no reason to lie to me anymore, Monica. I know that Chandler snuck you out. I knew it almost immediately. That's part of the reason I had him killed."  
  
"No, that's not true, I--"  
  
"I'm afraid that you are of no use to me now, Monica," Frank said threateningly.  
  
"Frank, you can't kill her," Thomas said suddenly, an idea flashing through his head.  
  
"What? Why not?"  
  
"She's...uh, pregnant. She just told me. That's why she came back."  
  
Monica looked at Thomas, her eyes wide. The lie was brilliant. She just hoped Frank would buy it.  
  
"Really. Well, I'll bring in Dr. Chadwick again. He'll do a test, and if it turns out that you are pregnant, you'll live long enough to give me a grandson. If you aren't you'll be buried next to Chandler by sunset." With that, Frank turned on his heel and walked out of the room.  
  
"Thomas, what are we going to do?" Monica whispered desperately.  
  
"I'll figure something out..." Thomas said reassuringly. Inside he was certain that there would be no stopping Frank. He hoped that they could get a hold of Chandler soon.   
  
***  
  
Doctor Chadwick returned to Monica's room, and took a blood and urine sample from her. She sat on the edge of her bed, fidgeting with the loose end of her pillowcase. The doctor said that he would return with the results in two hours. Monica fought back her tears. She didn't want to die. She wasn't ready. But it was a no-win situation. If she wasn't pregnant, she'd die tonight--if she was, her child would end up trapped here, the way Chandler and Thomas were. The entire scenario was devastating, to say the very least. Filled with dispair and hopelessness, Monica finally let go, broke down, and began sobbing uncontrollably.  
  
*  
  
She must have drifted off, because she felt Frank shaking her awake. She opened her eyes, and jumped back on her bed, knowing that he had come to kill her.  
  
"Monica, we have the results to your pregnancy test," Frank said, his voice giving away nothing.  
  
***  
  
The annoucement over the loudspeaker woke Chandler from his daydream. He couldn't wait to see Monica again. He crossed the train station, and glanced at his ticket, reconfirming his location. He walked onto the platform, and began to board the train.  
  
"That's the wrong car, sir," a uniformed man said.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. Um, which car should I be in?" Chandler handed the man his ticket.  
  
"I'm afraid this train will not take you where you need to be," the man said, peering at Chandler over a set of bifocals.  
  
"Oh. But my ticket says Platform Four."  
  
"Yes. But the future you seek is behind you," the man said cryptically, and handed Chandler back his ticket. Chandler looked at the man quizically as he walked away. He glanced back at his ticket, still unsure what the man had meant. Chandler turned the ticket over, and saw that the man had attached a slip of paper to the ticket. He unfolded the paper, and read the note.  
  
~She has returned. Do not cross the Channel~  
  
Chandler folded the note, and thought for a minute. Swallowing nervously, he folded up his ticket and shoved it into his bag, with his passport and wallet. He placed the bag in a coin locker in the main lobby, then ran out of the train station, heading back toward the compound.  
  
***~***  
So, what do you think? Will Chandler return in time? Is Monica pregnant? Do you care? You gotta review! 


	11. If I Never See You Again

Okay, I'm back...kinda. This chapter is pretty crappy, mostly because I can't really concentrate at the moment. But writing is a good way to distract myself from the hell that is my life at the moment, so, uh, my apologies if this chapter makes no sense.  
  
If Love Is All We Have, Chapter Eleven  
"If I Never See You Again"  
  
~Prague~  
  
"Monica, we have the results of your pregnancy test."  
  
Monica sat on her bed, paralyzed with fear. She closed her eyes, and awaited her fate.  
  
"It looks like you are about a month along," Frank said slowly.  
  
Monica opened her eyes, and tried her hardest to not act as shocked as she was. She was pregnant? Or was this the work of Thomas and Francesco? Her mind was in such a whirl, she barely heard Frank talking to her.  
  
"I suggest you get some rest. I don't want anything happening to my grandchild," Frank stated, then left the room.  
  
*  
  
Thomas came in a few minutes after Frank had left.  
  
"Monica? Are you okay?"   
  
"Yes, I'm fine. Did you um...did you do this?" she whispered.  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Frank says I'm a month pregnant. Did you switch the tests?"  
  
"No. I was going to, but I couldn't get to them. Frank is really paranoid now."  
  
Monica's eyes widened at what Thomas was saying. "You mean--"  
  
"You're really pregnant, Monica."  
  
Monica smiled widely, as tears fell down her face. She was really pregnant. It was wonderful, and terrible at the same time. She needed Chandler now, more than ever.  
  
***  
  
Chandler made his way out of the train station, and down the dark, windy back streets of downtown Prague. His mind was racing. Why had Monica come back? They were so close to escaping! He shook his head, and prayed that she was okay. He would not be able to live with himself if anything happened to her. He made his way down a narrow, cobblestone street, and for the first time, he noticed how cold it was. He wrapped his jacket tightly around him, and made his way up the street. As he turned the corner, he ran into a tall, burly man as he staggered out of a small pub.  
  
"Sorry!" Chandler exclaimed, and backed up.  
  
"I'll give you something to be sorry about," the man slurred in broken English, and lunged toward Chandler.  
His giant hands hit Chandler square in the chest, and sent him careening toward a brick wall. He landed with a thud, and the giant drunk man fell with him, passing out cold.  
  
***  
  
Monica sat in a large chair, watching the morning sun light up the sky. She sighed heavily, and wondered what her life would be like right now, if she was still in New York. She wished that she was back there, and that none of this had ever happened. She missed her brother, and her friends. She missed Chandler. Her mind wandered back to the day that Chandler had been taken, the day everything had changed. Up until that moment, she was so happy. He'd made her happy. And now they were having a baby. Monica shook her head, and prayed that she would wake up at any moment, and that she would be in New York, and Chandler would be asleep next to her.  
  
***  
  
Chandler opened his eyes, and squinted, as the morning sun shone down onto his face. He groaned, and gingerly touched the back of his head. He sat up slowly, and tried to take in his surroundings. He was in a small, darkened room, and the man that had attacked him was sleeping on the other side. He shook his head. Suddenly, a windowless door swung open, and a uniformed police officer walked in.  
  
"Where am I?" Chandler asked.  
  
The man looked at him strangely, obviously not understanding him.  
  
Chandler shook his head, and closed his eyes. He hadn't spoken Czech since he'd left here. He mentally filtered through his memory, trying to remember which words to use. He opened his eyes when it finally came to him, and he asked the man the same question again, this time, in Czech.  
  
The man nodded, and answered Chandler. Chandler repeated the words in his own head a few times, translating the answer. He was in jail? Why? He looked up at the officer, and was about to ask him what was happening. But before he could, two more officers entered, and pulled Chandler to his feet, then led him out of the room, and into another, slightly larger room. Once there, Chandler tried his best to explain what had happened to him the previous night. The men looked at Chandler suspiciously, and Chandler began to panic. He needed to get to the compound. He needed to get to Monica.  
  
Finally, after four hours of seemingly pointless interrogation, the police let Chandler leave the station. He rushed out of town and toward the compound, his head throbbing, and his mind in a whirl.  
  
*  
  
It was almost dark by the time Chandler reached the compound. Much like Monica had, he clambered up the wall, and into the garden. He made his way toward the main house, and slipped into the back kitchen through the servant's entrance. Slowly making his way down the narrow corridors, he peered around the corner of the main hall, and watched silently as Frank made his way into his office. Once the door was closed, Chandler moved down the hallway toward Monica's room. At least he hoped that she was still in there. As he approached the door, he heard another door open. Startled, he backed up against the wall, and froze, hoping that whomever it was would not notice him. An armed guard made his way down the hallway, just as Frank was emerging from him office. Chandler took a deep breath, and opened the bedroom door, and quietly slipped inside. He watched Frank and the guard through the crack in the door, and saw that neither seemed to have noticed him. He closed the door softly, and exhaled.  
  
"Thomas, is that you?" Chandler heard Monica's voice coming from the bathroom. He turned, just as Monica made her way into the room.  
  
"Ch-Chandler?"  
  
"Hi," he whispered.  
  
It took everything Monica had not to yell out excitedly. She ran toward Chandler, and wrapped her arms around him. He picked her up, and held onto her tightly.  
  
"I'm so happy you're okay," he whispered into her hair.  
  
"Ditto," she replied, her voice cracking.  
  
"We have to get you out of here," Chandler whispered. "Come on." He took her hand, and led her out of the bedroom. Following the same course he had used to get into the compound, he and Monica made their way out into the garden. They walked up to the wall, and stopped to catch their breath.  
  
"We're gonna have to climb over," Chandler whispered.  
  
"Yeah, I know, I did it to get in here," Monica replied.  
  
"Oh. Right," Chandler laughed. "Great minds think alike."  
  
Chandler and Monica both looked up at the wall, and, as Chandler gave Monica a boost up the side, he heard the distinctive sound of a gun being cocked behind him. He turned slowly, and came face to face with the barrel of a gun, and one of Frank's guards.  
  
"Get her down," the man barked.  
  
Chandler pulled Monica off the wall, and pulled her behind him protectively. The guard swung his gun, indicating that they should walk toward the house. As they walked slowly toward the main house, Chandler wrapped his arm around Monica.  
  
"It'll be okay," he whispered, though he wasn't so sure himself.  
  
Monica nodded blankly, as the guard made a lewd remark about Monica, in German. Chandler picked up on the remark, and swung around, his eyes gleaming with hatred.   
  
"Watch your mouth," Chandler replied in German, surprising both the guard and Monica with his fluency.  
  
*  
  
Chandler, Monica and the guard made their way into Frank's office. Frank was sitting in his chair, and didn't look the least bit surprised to see either of them.  
  
"Peter, you are quite the little James Bond," Frank spat sarcastically.  
  
"Let Monica go," Chandler replied, "And I'll do whatever you want."  
  
"It's a liitle late for negotiations," Frank said calmly. "I have more use for her than I do for you."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Monica didn't tell you? Well, let me be the first to congratulate you on your impending fatherhood," Frank smiled.  
  
"Wh-what?" Chandler looked at Monica, who simply nodded sadly.  
  
"Billy, take Monica back to her room."  
  
"NO!" Monica shouted, as the large bodyguard dragged her away from Chandler. Chandler looked at her sadly, as she struggled to free herself. "Chandler!"  
  
"Monica, I'm sorry! I love you, and if I never see you again--"  
  
"Get her out of here!" Frank yelled.  
  
"If you kill him, I'll make sure this baby isn't born!" Monica screamed, as Billy pulled her out of the room.  
  
"Well, we'll make sure that doesn't happen," Frank muttered. 


	12. Sweet Revenge

If Love Is All We Have, Chapter Twelve  
"Sweet Revenge"  
  
Chandler heard Monica's muffled screams as she was dragged up to her room. He turned to Frank.  
  
"Let her go," Chandler warned again.  
  
"Not likely, Peter," Frank laughed.  
  
Suddenly, the door to the office opened, and Thomas came in.  
  
"Chandler, what--uh, how?"  
  
"Thomas, come in, son. I was just about to ask your brother how exactly he managed to return from the dead."  
  
Thomas looked at Chandler, as an eerie silence fell upon the room. Frank picked up on this, and realized that Chandler had not acted alone.  
  
"Which one of you would like to tell me what is going on?" Frank hissed.  
  
Chandler looked over at Frank, with his mouth tightened, and his eyes full of determination.  
  
"Thomas doesn't know anything."  
  
Franks looked at Thomas, who was still looking at Chandler. Franks approached Chandler slowly, and pulled out his revolver.  
  
"I am having a hard time believing you, Peter," Frank hissed, then cocked the gun at put it to Chandler's head.  
  
Chandler felt the cold steel of the gun on his temple, pressing against his head menacingly. He closed his eyes, and awaited his fate, thinking only of Monica as a tense silence again filled the room. But before Frank could pull the trigger, Francesco came barging into the room.  
  
"Sir," Francesco interrupted, "We have a problem. Another shipment has been lost."  
  
"What?"  
  
"In the Atlantic. It was picked up by a British Naval carrier."  
  
"Which shipment?"  
  
"The big one, sir. The one coming from Uzbekistan."  
  
Chandler and Thomas looked at each other, each trying to determine whether or not Francesco was telling the truth. They looked at Francesco, who refused to look at either of them.  
  
"This is a disater. We've already had to clean up that other mess," Frank was beginning to panic.  
  
"Your Uzbeki contact is on his way here, sir," Francesco said solomnly.  
  
"Shit. Okay, Francesco, take care of Peter. This time, make sure he's fucking dead before you leave him," Frank said angrily, as he walked out of the office.  
  
"Francesco, what the hell is going on?" Thomas asked, after Frank had left the room.  
  
"All of the shipments have been sabotaged. The shipments will never reach the Americas, and Frank's contacts will be very, very unhappy."  
  
"How did they get sabotaged?" Chandler asked warily.  
  
"I don't know," Francesco lied, winking at Thomas and Chandler.  
  
Chandler let out the anxious breath he had been holding, and followed Thomas and Francesco out of the office. They walked up the stairs, watching as Frank rushed around the foyer below, trying to fix the unfixable. Once they were out of Frank's earshot, Francesco turned to Thomas and Chandler.  
  
"You guys have to get out of here. I'd imagine that Frank is going to have a few very angry and very dangerous people visiting him shortly."  
  
"I need to get Monica," Chandler said, rushing toward her bedroom.  
  
"Thomas, go pack. Take only what you need," Francesco whispered  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"I want to make sure Frank doesn't follow you out. Hurry," Francesco said, as he watched Frank from the shadows of the corridor where he and Thomas stood. Frank was pacing the floor nervously, as he tried to talk to one of his contacts. It was obvious that the man on the other end was not interested in excuses.  
  
***  
  
Monica layed on her bed, her legs curled up to her chest, and her arms hugging her legs protectively. She felt utterly helpless, and completely alone. After all that had happened, after all that she and Chandler had been through, she was sure that they would find one another again. She sighed, letting out another shaky, teary breath. She didn't want to live, if she couldn't live with Chandler. That was when it hit her. She didn't have to live...she could take her own life. Then Frank wouldn't get her child, and he would lose. At least he would lose this battle. Monica's mind raced, and the more she thought about it, the better it sounded. Suddenly, she heard her door swing open.  
  
"Monica," Chandler called out, as he rushed into the room.  
  
Monica sat up and turned toward the door.  
  
"Chandler? You're okay!" Monica yelled and hopped off of the bed.  
  
"Monica, we have to get out of here. Frank's contacts...they're coming after him. It's a long story, but we have to go now!" Chandler rattled, as Monica hugged him fiercly.  
  
"Okay. Are you sure it's safe?"  
  
"No, but it's safer than staying here. C'mon," Chandler took Monica's hand, and led her down the corridor, where they met up with Thomas.  
  
"Are you ready?" Chandler asked his brother.  
  
"Yeah. Let's get the hell out of here."  
  
As the group proceeded down the hall, they heard a rhythmic popping sound in the distance. Seconds later, Francesco appeared in the hallway.  
  
"The Uzbeki contact is here," Francesco said breathlessly, "and he's not alone."  
  
More popping was heard, and it became evident to Chandler that it was gunfire, coming from the perimeter of the compound.  
  
"How are we going to get out of here?" Chandler wondered aloud, "How can we get out without being noticed?"  
  
"They are moving toward the house. Chances are, they are going to leave the perimeter open as they do it. Come on," Francesco said, leading the group down the stairs and around the back of Frank's office. He keyed into a small, dark room.  
  
"What is this place?" Monica whispered.  
  
"Frank is pretty paranoid--apparently with good reason," Francesco chuckled, "This room leads to the control room. Frank has bugs and cameras located throughout the compound. They all feed into this room," Francesco opened another door to reveal another dark, slightly larger room, filled with monitors and recording equipment.  
"From here we should be able to see most of the compound, and figure out the best way to get out."  
  
Francesco and Chandler studied the monitors for several minutes, trying to map a way out of the compound.  
  
"It looks like the west end is going to give us the best option," Chandler muttered, his eyes scanning the monitors.  
  
"I agree. We should move now. There are a lot of them, and they are hell-bent on killing everyone in the compound," Francesco replied.  
  
Chandler nodded and grabbed Monica's hand, as Francesco led the group out of the control room and back into the hallway. They made their way down toward the west exit, and out the doors into the sprawling garden.  
  
"Okay, keep moving that way, and you should be able to climb the gates along the perimeter. Move quickly, and keep your eyes open," Francesco whispered.  
  
"You're not coming?" Chandler asked.  
  
"I have some things I need to take care of. Take this," Francesco handed Chandler his gun, "but get rid of it before you try to cross the border."  
  
"Got it," Chandler nodded. Chandler shook Francesco's hand, and thanked him quickly, before running toward the gates.  
  
*  
  
Chandler, Monica and Thomas rushed toward the west gates, using the various trees and foliage of the garden as cover. There were men with guns scattered throughout the compound, all looking for Frank, who had conveniently disappeared as soon as they had shown up. Suddenly, two gunshots rang out, much closer to the group than before.   
  
"Get down!" Chandler yelled to Thomas, as he wrapped his arms around Monica and pulled her to the ground, shielding her body with his own. When the next set of shots were fired, they seemed much further away. Chandler popped his head up and scanned the area quickly. As soon as he felt confident that it was clear, he stood up, and pulled Monica up onto her feet.   
  
"Thomas, come on," Chandler whispered, and Thomas stood up. As the group moved toward the gate, Chandler heard a rustling in a nearby bush. Before he could turn, a shot rang out, and Chandler saw Thomas fall to the ground. He pulled out his gun and shot at the bush, pulling Monica behind him. A Uzbeki man fell out of the bush, covered in blood and unconscious. Chandler dropped the gun and rushed toward his brother.  
  
"Thomas," Chandler whispered, picking up his head gingerly.  
  
"Doesn't even...really hurt," Thomas choked out, then chuckled.  
  
"Okay, we have to get you to a hospital," Chandler said, "So you just hang on, okay?"  
  
"Chandler, you'll never make it out of here with me," Thomas argued.  
  
"I'm not leaving you!" Chandler yanked at Thomas' shirt, and saw that he had been hit in the chest. Thomas coughed, and groaned, his eyes growing heavier with each passing second.  
  
"Thomas, just hang on, okay?" Chandler was growing desperate, knowing in his heart that he couldn't take his brother with him.  
  
"Chandler, go, take care of Monica...and your child."  
  
Chandler sighed heavily, then nodded slowly. He watched helplessly as Thomas lost consciousness, then set his head back down onto the ground. Several gunshots brought Chandler back to reality. He stood up, and took Monica's hand, and led her toward the gates.  
  
**  
  
Once Chandler and Monica were over the west gates, they made their way toward Prague. They walked to the train station, and as Monica went to buy tickets to London, Chandler went into the bathroom to try and wash Thomas' blood off his hands. Now out of harm's way, Chandler let the full effect of the evening hit him with full force. He suddenly felt extremely tired. He slumped against the wall, and slid to the ground, his eyes welling up with tears. He wasn't sure how long he was there, before a British man entered the bathroom, and told him that there was a pretty dark-haired woman looking for him. He nodded slowly, then pulled himself together, and walked out of the bathroom.  
  
"Are you okay?" Monica took Chandler's hands in hers.  
  
"Not really," Chandler whispered, then smiled weakly.  
  
"What can I do?"  
  
"Let's just get out of here," Chandler said quietly.  
  
**  
  
~One Year Later~  
  
Joey came flying into Central Perk, looking for his friends. He spotted them on the sofa, and made his way over to them, as he tried to catch his breath.   
  
"What's up, Joe?" Ross asked.  
  
"I just got a postcard...in...the mail," Joey said breathlessly.  
  
"And you came running all the way down here to tell us that?" Rachel asked, puzzled.  
  
"It's to all of us!" Joey said excitedly, handing the card to Ross. Phoebe and Rachel huddled around Ross to get a closer look.  
  
~Dear Joey, Rachel, Phoebe and Ross,  
  
We hope that this note finds all of you well. We wish we could tell you where we are now, but it's best for everyone that we don't. We wanted to let you know that we are okay, and we are together. We have a daughter, she is about five months old now, and we wish she could get to know her aunts and uncles, but we are afraid that right now, it's impossible. We love and miss all of you, and you are always in our thoughts and hearts. We'll try to be in touch soon.  
  
M & C~  
  
  
"They're alive?" Rachel looked up from the postcard with tears in her eyes.  
  
"Do you think they'll ever come back?" Phoebe wondered.  
  
"I dunno. I hope so," Joey replied.  
  
"At least they have each other," Ross said, and the others nodded.  
  
~*~  
  
That's uh, pretty much it. Don't know where else to go on this one so, uh, The End. LOL.  
Please review, as I am unsure about the "action" sequences, LOL. 


End file.
